


Coffee and Ramen

by Whistlepunk12



Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Disabled Character, Gen, Identity Issues, Minor Violence, Self-Insert, Swearing, Trans Character, dinosaur apologism, this will be jwcc eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whistlepunk12/pseuds/Whistlepunk12
Summary: But how long do we think we could walk, we could sing?Before our voices gave out, and our limbs gave in?(Bremen, PigPen Theatre Co.)Title taken from the Go! Child album of the same name.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Coffee and Ramen

They’d left it behind. It feels that with a sickening certainty. It had been left to die. 

It slumps to the ground against a wall on what had been main street, feeling pure and utter despair for it all. Overturned tables, broken windows, the metallic scent of blood. At least the screaming was over. The sirens were still going, but the last call for the ferry had been an hour ago. There’s nothing it can do. The people at this park got too greedy, too bold, and it’s the one paying the price. It’s fucking pissed.

It just sits there, for lord knows how long. Knees to its chest, staring up at the setting sun until the blaring finally stops. Now, the creaking of metal can be heard clearly, along with its own heavy breathing. In the distance, there’s a bellowing roar. It needs to get moving. 

It winces as it gets onto its feet, relying more heavily on its cane for balance than it’s used to. It staggers more than it’d like to as it walks, though it isn’t in any more pain than it’s used to. It’s trying to hurry past the chairs and tables that litter the ground, hoping to find some semblance of shelter. And there’s that roar again. Closer. 

It whimpers a little. Dinosaur sounds aren’t its strong suit, but that roar is outright iconic. T. fucking rex. 

The first shop it comes across that is somewhat more intact is still…. Not great, but the windows are much smaller than many other buildings, the biggest one being the glass door, cracked, but not shattered. It pulls open said door, flinching as it hears a bell ring overhead. Time to see what it can find in here. Stores do tend to have merchandise. Maybe this can be a shelter for the night. 

Real food isn’t among the things it finds. What it does find is several kitschy packs of candy, shaped like dinosaurs at best and normal candy with the Jurassic World logo slapped on the packaging at worst. It can’t live off this. Jiggling the handle of the door to the storeroom just proves it’s locked. Real food will just have to be an endeavor for tomorrow, it decides. There is no way in hell it’s going out after dark somewhere like this. 

It looks over the room that it’s decided to take refuge in, straining its eyes to see using the dim moonlight that’s coming in through the door. There’s a counter with a cash register in the corner, the rest of the floor covered in stuffed animals and plastic toys that had fallen off the overturned merchandise racks. It was a toy store of some kind, evidently. Not very useful to it. 

It crouches down and picks up a stegosaurus figure off of the floor. On the press of a button, it roars from a low quality speaker somewhere inside it. Not very loud, but definitely grating. It drops the toy back to the floor as the roaring continues. Crunchy. Hopefully there’s at least something more interesting behind the counter. 

This hope proves to be true, in fact. There’s some cardboard boxes on the floor, all taped shut. The backside of the counter has some drawers, though, all unlocked. Rifling through them doesn’t it much, but there is one thing it HAS got lucky on. Behold: the boxcutter. It uses it to cut open all the boxes; the blade is somewhat dull. It pockets the boxcutter, shoving it into the side pocket of the brown coat it’s been sweating in all day. Hey, dressing inappropriately for the weather had come in handy. 

It gets down on its knees to open the first of the boxes, pulling up the cardboard flaps with shaking hands. The box is full of blankets, neatly stacked and folded. Pulling one out of the box reveals that it’s made for kids, and too short for him, but he intends to use it all the same. If not for warmth, then for comfort. But it’s only just starting to ball it up in his arms when it freezes. 

Outside. There’s footsteps. Something big. It scrambles back against the counter, hand in its pocket, clutching the boxcutter. It’s heart is beating like a small animal’s and it’s trying its best not to whimper as those footsteps get closer. Outside, it can only just hear heavy breathing. 

From the angle it’s sitting at, it can just barely see out of the glass door. And with its eyes locked on what’s outside, it hopes nothing can see in. 

The cracked glass breaks up her form, makes it hard to see, but it knows that it’s Rexy outside. It watches her sniff the air. It watches as she walks towards the door. It pulls its cowboy hat down, as if that’s going to hide it from her. It’s clenching its teeth so hard that it hurts, the boxcutter in its hand not making it feel much safer against the massive animal waiting for it outside. 

She can't be two steps from the wall. It is not happy about that. It doesn't even dare to wipe the tears it feels brimming in the corner of its eyes, for fear that she sees it moving. The seconds ticking by feel like hours as he sits there, staring out into the night at the massive T. rex, curiously sniffing around. It squeezes its eyes shut, trying to put himself even closer up against the counter, its head lowered. 

The second it opens its eyes, its gaze locks with hers. She’s looking in through the glass, breathing heavily. It, in turn, can’t breathe at all. She’s looking right at it, and it’s looking back. She blinks, slowly, and it immediately drops its gaze. It isn’t sure for how long it’s been sitting there, but eventually, she swings her massive head away; it was nearly the size of its whole body. Finally, she seems to be moving on, having deemed it not interesting enough for the trouble. 

There’s silence for several minutes before it finally lets itself exhale. God, it hates being alone out here. It looks down at the blanket it had discarded on the floor, and picks it back up. It’s nearly an hour of being curled up like a dog on the floor before it’s finally able to find some amount of rest.

With the sun streaming through the glass door comes a dull ache in its back, probably not helped by sleeping on the hard tile floor all night, and a low growl from its stomach. Yep. The first order of business today is definitely finding food. It uses the counter to help itself up, its legs shaking, before getting its cane as a more sustainable way to get around. It’s right knee doesn’t feel great, either. The general weakness and “bad” feeling that came with not having eaten in a while were unpleasant, too, but grabbing a pack of gummy dinosaurs to eat on the road will help that issue. If it doesn’t find some sort of food source or shelter by noon, it’ll be heading back.

Main street is quiet. None of the hustle and bustle of tourists and employees, naturally, but also none of the dinosaurs tearing up the place that it’d expected. There’s surely some small dinosaurs that have made their way here by now, looking for food just as much as it is, but it didn’t die the moment it stepped out the door like it was afraid of. Now that it isn’t in imminent danger, it takes a moment to shrug off its jacket, tying it around its waist. It wasn’t looking to die of heatstroke quite yet. 

Goddamn, when did its farmer’s tan get this bad? 

It carries on slowly, keeping its head up and posture as relaxed as it gets. It made it through its first night. Now it needs to make sure it’ll make it through the next nights, and find a way to call for help. Its friends, its parents, its boyfriend….. It needs to make sure they know it’s alive. The power is out, but that’s what happened at the first park. They must have planned for it this time. 

The hotel sounds like its best bet, due east of wherever it was. The “Main street” area where all the shops are makes a circle, so all it really has to do is pick a direction and walk until it finds a helpful sign. And walk it does, its gaze flitting around to look for danger from time to time. And the longer it goes on, the more scared and angry it gets. It hates Jurassic World, it hates Masrani Corp, and it hates everything that they stand for. 

How many people died yesterday? And how could they let this happen? These are the questions that kept nagging at its mind as it walked in the direction of the hotel, idly hoping it wasn’t taking the long way around. Things like this don’t happen at zoos. They don’t happen at aquariums. Not on this scale. So why did it here? Again. Why did it happen again? Where they that fucking incompetent? Or did they really not fucking care? 

It doesn’t know what all the noise was yesterday about a monster on the loose. It was under the impression that any “monsters” here would be leaving on the ferry.

But it can see the hotel now. It picks up the pace a little, though it’s getting tired already. Running is out of the question for today. That is, unless it needs to. It’s realizing that it’d rather be in serious pain than be eaten. Not the types of things one expects to ponder on their “found a bottle cap and won some prize” vacation. 

When it finally gets to the front of the hotel, the doors present a problem. Automatic doors don’t open when the power is out. It just has to pray that they aren’t properly locked; a prayer that is answered as it wedges its foot between the two doors, using that as leverage to open them wide enough to get itself inside. The doors close again behind it, but it’s confident that it’ll be able to get back out as well as it can get in. 

It’s barely had time to register its surroundings before it hears the gunshot, from not even halfway across the hotel complex.


End file.
